Page 42 of Captivated
“I didn’t think I could do this,” he admitted, his voice almost too quiet for the wind to carry.
Zeeb stared up at him, a half-smile on his face. “Why not?”
Nate swallowed. “Because trusting something, even a horse, feels like asking to be broken again.”
The words hit like a hammer to Zeeb’s chest.
He kept his steps slow, but inside, something ached. He wanted to reach up, to put a hand on Nate’s knee, to offer something more than words. But he knew that’d be too much.
Too soon.
“Being broken doesn’t mean you’re not whole,” he said in a low voice. “Just means someone tried to tell you who you were wasn’t good enough.”
Nate stared back at him then, his green eyes dark and searching, the color of a stormy ocean.
“Yeah,” Zeeb admitted. “I’ve been there too. Which won’t surprise you, not after our conversation last night.”
The horse stopped at the edge of the paddock, as though he sensed something in the stillness between them. Nate didn’t speak, didn’t move, but gazed at Zeeb as if he was seeing him for the first time.
“Let’s head back,” Zeeb said in a gentle tone, giving him an out.
Nate nodded once, and Zeeb led him toward the stable.
Paul wasn’t around when they got there, and Zeeb helped Nate dismount, careful not to touch him unless it was necessary. His hand brushed Nate’s arm as he steadied him, and for a second, neither of them moved. The silence between them was thick, not awkward but full of all the things neither of them had said.
“Thanks,” Nate said, his voice low as he handed over the reins.
Zeeb nodded, walking Sorrel back into the stall while Nate leaned against a wooden beam, his arms crossed tightly as though he was holding himself together.
“You did more than try today,” Zeeb said over his shoulder. “You showed up. That counts.”
Nate didn’t answer right away, but watched as Zeeb moved with the horse, his hands gentle, his voice soft.
“I hate that I can’t trust people,” Nate said at last.
Zeeb’s heart ached for him. “But you’re here. That’s something, isn’t it?”
Nate stared at him, a tangle of emotions flickering across his face—fear, hope, longing. And something else. Something harder to name.
That’s enough for today.
He didn’t need Nate to open up all at once. He didn’t even need him to say thank you.
He’s shown up, and he’s let his mask slip a little.
That was more than Zeeb could’ve asked for.
“Is it okay if I go back to the cabin for a while?” Nate asked.
“Sure. Lemme tie Sorrel up, and I’ll take you there.”
Nate smiled. “I’ll meet you at the truck.”
As Nate turned to go, Zeeb let himself believe maybe this wasn’t just healing.
Maybe it was the beginning of something whole.
Chapter Thirteen
